Tarrin watched as Kern's sailors expertly brought the ship to a stop not twenty spans from the frigate's broadside. Easily within shouting range. The wind blew the galleon to the side, and it rotated on its anchor chain to turn its side to the frigate. Kern had them do that on purpose, so he could look right at the Wikuni ship's commander without having to leave the helm.
"Ahoy, captain, yer blockin' my line!" Kern boomed. "I'd ask ye to move yer ship out of my way! I have right of way!"
"I'm not here to accede to human demands," the Wikuni captain shouted back. He looked like a peacock in his multi-colored uniform and jacket, with a ridiculous wide-brimmed hat on his head. He was a dog-Wikuni, or some kind of canine, maybe even a wolf, tall and gangly with brownish fur and a white patch of fur over his left eye. "You're holding Lady Sheba Zalan of the House Zalan! You will surrender her to my custody immediately!"
"You mean Sheba the Pirate?" Kern asked acidly. "Aye, I've got her sorry hide on my ship. And it'll take me a ride to scrub the stench of her out of the hold! But I ain't gonna hand her over to ye, boy, cause ye'll just give her another ship to sail and send her back out to terrorize the sea lanes! And there's the matter of the reward, too!"
"That was not a request!" the Wikuni snapped, his fangs baring slightly. "Hand her over, or I'll blow you out of the water!"
"That'll be a neat trick, shootin' my ship out of the water without hurtin' yer precious Sheba, now won't it?" he asked with a wicked grin. "Besides, if ye do take a shot at me, I'll toss her over the side wearin' ten leg irons! I don't think she'll be swimmin' too well."
That put the Wikuni captain at a loss. He obviously hadn't considered what to do if Kern didn't hand her over. He spluttered a few times, then seemed to regain control of himself. "Father Tonta, would you kindly set fire to their sails?" he asked of his priest in a very loud voice, meaning for Kern to hear.
But Tarrin was already one step ahead. He jumped up onto the scarred railing and regarded the Wikuni frigate with glowing green eyes. He touched the Weave smoothly and easily, feeling the itching of High Sorcery start to seek him out, but he had enough time to weave together a thick rope of air and divine power, then release it at the Wikuni priest. It took the form of an invisible fist, and it struck the priest squarely in the middle of his ursine snout. The big bear Wikuni crumpled to the deck, out cold.
"It ain't that easy," Kern said with a waggling finger. "Ye got yer magician. I got mine. And as ye see, my magician beats yer bear. Now, if ye try that again, I'll have my magician tear out yer mainmast."
The captain stared at the priest in shock, then gaped at Kern with something approaching horror.
"Now kindly get that scowl out of my way, before ye make me angry," he snapped.
"Not until you release the Lady Sheba!" he blustered
"If ye want her that bad, you can fish her out of the Dayisè dungeon and deal with the Council, but yer not gettin' her off my ship!" he said adamantly. "Not without paying me the reward!"
That made him hesitate. "What reward?"
"There be a bounty on Sheba's head," he called back. "Ten thousand gold crowns, dead or alive. Pay me that reward, and I'll hand her over to ye."
"That's piracy!"
"No, what Sheba does be piracy. What I be doing is called blackmail. Ten thousand, take it or fish Sheba out of a dungeon cell." He put his hands on the railing and gave the captain a savage grin. "Would ye be wantin' her dead, or alive?"
The ugly immediacy of Kern's threat hit the captain like a fist. He stepped back visibly and regarded the grizzled captain with astonishment, then he tore his hat off his head. "All right all right! Ten thousand crowns!"
"Cash."
"How dare you--"
"Send over a chest, or ye'll be gettin' yer precious Sheba back in six seperate bags," he warned.
"I don't have that much money!"
"Then ye be havin' a serious problem. I'll just send ye as much of Sheba as ye can pay for. I'll keep the rest." He looked at his fingernails, then buffed them on the front of his canvas shirt. "Let's say, oh, two thousand crowns a limb. I'll give ye the torso for free. I be feelin' generous today."
"That's monstrous!"
"No. Sending good men down just for what their ship carries be monstrous. Yer precious Sheba be ten times more a monster than me."
"I can pay you five thousand in cash, and I think I have cargo and some jewelry that will cover the remainder," the captain said after a moment of intense silence. "It's the best I can do. I just don't have any more."
"I'll take yer five thousand, and I'll be takin' twenty kegs of gunpowder from ye to cover the difference."
"I can't give you that!"
"Then ye only be gettin' back half of Sheba. Which half do ye be wantin'?"
The captain glared furiously at him, but he finally slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Agreed. I'll start ferrying over your ransom. But don't think I'll forget about this! And neither will the Wikuni!"
"I don't think the kingdoms of the West be forgettin' that a Wikuni noble house be comin' to bail out the worst pirate on the Sea of Storms," Kern shot back. "After word of this do be gettin' out, there may not be many ports to welcome Wikuni ships."
That made the captain stare at him in momentary terror. Then he whirled around and started shouting orders.
"That was nervous," Kern whispered to Tarrin. "I do be appreciatin' yer help, lad. Ye put the priest out."
Tarrin jumped off the rail and onto the deck, then shifted back into his humanoid form. With Sheba being released, there was little reason to hide from the Wikuni. They'd know about him just as soon as Sheba started talking. "Why did you give her up?" he asked Kern curiously.
"Because I be in no shape to take on a Wikuni frigate," he replied calmly. "Best to give her over and get what I can be gettin' in the bargain, since they'd be gettin' her back no matter what. It be cheaper for them to buy her from me than it would be for them to be bribin' the ruling council of Dayisè. At least this way, I be seein' profit from the exchange, rather than Dayisè."
"True," Tarrin agreed. The galleon was still damaged from the fight with Sheba, and the frigate had cannons trained on them already. At such close range, they wouldn't last more than a few heartbeats. Kern would end up either handing her over or killing her, and killing her would be a death sentence for the Star of Jerod. At least by dragging money out of the Wikuni, Kern was getting something for his trouble. "Why ask for gunpowder?" he asked.
"Because I can sell it for a thousand crowns a keg," he said with a grin.
"Good reason," he said, rubbing his chin absently.
It took about a half an hour for the Wikuni to arrange the ransom in two longboats, then launch them. Kern's men hauled up the cargo quickly and efficiently, and it was stacked after it was checked to make sure it was the real thing. Kern then had his men bring Sheba and her surviving crew members up from the hold. Sheba looked victoriously smug, even arrogant, and she immediately started issuing outrageous demands. It only took seconds for her to get on Tarrin's nerves. He'd never directly talked to her, never even so much as given her a second glance, and from the way she was acting now, he was glad of it. He'd have killed her. When she looked at Kern after the man had come down from the helm, Tarrin accompanying him, she gave him a smile, but had eyes full of hate. "You're a dead man now, Kern," she warned with a bit of a sneer. "The first thing I do after I get a new ship is come and hunt you down."
"I don't think so," Tarrin told her, stepping between them and staring down at her with glowing, ominous green eyes. "If you so much as touch this man or this ship, I'll make sure you wish I'd never saved your life."
"I'm not afraid of you," she sneered.
"Then you're a fool," he snapped, grabbing her by the shirt and hauling her off the deck. He brought her nose to nose with him, her feet dangling over the deck, and he saw her eyes, eyes so much like his own, widen in fear. "If you come within a mile of Kern, I'll hunt you down and gut you, then tie you to the
mast by your entrails," he hissed in a savage voice. "Don't think I can't do it. Don't forget how I almost brought your entire ship down around your ears. Now get out of my sight, before your father gets back nothing but a pelt."
And with that, Tarrin threw her over the side.
She made the most wonderful scream as she fell, which was cut off by her impact with the water. He didn't look over, but the savage curses and vile promises hurled at him from below made it apparent that had her head above water.
"Kern," Tarrin said in a steady voice, looking at him.
"What is it, lad?"
"I think you need to get yourself a cat."
Kern looked at him, then his eyes widened, and he grinned. "Aye, I do believe ye be right. A nice black cat."
"We'll find something suitable in Dayisè. I'll give it some instructions."
"I be appreciatin' that, lad."
After Sheba was fished out of the sea, things went smoothly. The panther Wikuni glared at him from the other ship, her eyes boring into him as she spoke to the ship captain in hushed tones, but Tarrin didn't give her much mind. He turned and shifted back to cat form, then laid down by the ship's crudely fashioned emergency wheel. After the Wikuni were loaded aboard the frigate, it raised its anchor and pulled away from the galleon without so much as a word from its captain.
"I think ye can tell Dolanna to come back up," Kern told him as the galleon began moving towards Dayisè again.
Tarrin nodded to him, then padded towards the steep stairs to the deck. He shifted back into his humanoid form once he was in the companionway below, then opened the door to her cabin. "Dolanna, the Wikuni are gone," he told her. "We're moving again."
"I felt the ship's motion, dear one," she told him lightly, adjusting the veil over her face a bit to get it off the base of her nose. "Any problems? I heard Sheba screaming."
"She threatened Kern, so I tossed her overboard," he replied bluntly.
"Well, I suppose she had that coming," she mused. "Tell the others to go back on deck."
"Yes ma'am," he acknowledged with a nod.
He opened each cabin door and told the occupants that it was over, and they began to arrive back on deck. Azakar still looked uncomfortable in his brightly colored robes, and Faalken's continuous jibes didn't help the matter. The cherubic Knight was careful not to get within arm's reach of the hulking youth, mainly because he was wearing his armor this time. Tarrin didn't waste time, he shifted back into cat form and climbed into Miranda's shoulder bag, then pushed and nudged at the contents until he could lay down somewhat comfortably. He got jabbed by one of Miranda's needles, which required another round of settling in until the needles stuck into skeins of yarn and bobbins of thread no longer posed a stabbing threat. Miranda picked up the bag after he stopped moving and rested it on her shoulder easily, looking down into the open mouth of it and giving him a cheeky grin.
"How do they keep control of all this?" Dar asked curiously. "There are so many ships. How do they know where to go?"
"Most of them don't," Keritanima replied. "Most of the quays are first come, first served. Some of them have specific berths. Those are the ones that have the red paint along the edges of the dock. That means someone owns that berth, and only certain ships can dock there. The rest are run by the city."
"It seems crazy. How do they move their cargo if they don't know where they're going to be docking?"
"That's how they've done it for hundreds of years," she replied. "I don't know the specifics of how they transport cargo, but they must have some kind of system."
Tarrin peeked out of the shoulder bag to see them approach Dayisè. They had cleared the ring of anchored ships and were moving into the harbor. He noticed that there were no sea fortresses, no naval defenses in place to defend the island city from shipborne attack. Then again, who would dare attack? The sheer number of ships coming and going, all of which would probably join in the defense of the important city, meant that an attacker would have to fight an armada of various ships to gain access to the islands. Kern directed the ship into the middle of the rows of stone quays, until he pulled up to an open slip at the end of one of the larger piers. It was painted red--Tomas must own the berth--and men were on hand to accept ropes thrown from the ship so it could be pulled in and secured.
It only took about twenty minutes to go from the Wikuni frigate to being tied to the dock. Once the ship was stable, the gangplank was lowered, and Kern approached them from the steering deck. "Here ye be, Mistress Dolanna," he told her in his gravelly voice. "I hope ye have a good journey."
"Your aid was indispensible, Captain Kern," she replied with a gentle smile, letting him take her hand. "We thank you, both for your aid and for your discretion."
"Tell Kern to expect a new cat sometime in the next couple of days," Tarrin told Keritanima in the manner of the Cat.
"Uh, Kern, Tarrin says to expect a new cat in the next couple of days. If that makes any sense."
"Aye, it makes perfect sense," he replied. "He said he'd be teachin' a cat that looks like him how to act, so I can use it to bluff anyone who knows about him."
"Clever," Keritanima said appreciatively.
"Good journey to ye, Dolanna," Kern said. "I got repairs to oversee."
"May the winds ever favor you, Kern," Dolanna replied. "Alright, my friends, let us find an inn, then I will attempt to locate Renoit. Keritanima, help me hide your Vendari companions behind Illusions."
Dayisè's streets were wide, and there was a curious lack of horses that were common in Suld. The place smelled of people and fish, rotting fish, and the wastes associated with both of them. But the sea breeeze blew in from the ocean, cleansing it of much of the miasma that hung over Suld. Tarrin peeked out of the shoulder bag and watched people go by, people dressed in every imaginable style and manner. Suld was a port city, but Dayisè was a port first and a city second. What caught his attention was that ever third person was Wikuni. The Wikuni almost owned Dayisè, it seemed, for there were a tremendous amount of them walking the city streets. Azakar led their group along the streets, following Dolanna's quietly relayed directions. None of the Wikuni gave Keritanima or Miranda even a second look. After all, Keritanima looked totally different from what she did now, and the Vendari bodyguards that always accompanied her were absent. Nobody would believe that the fox-Wikuni was the High Princess.
"Get down, Tarrin," Miranda said under her breath.
Tarrin hunkered down a bit so he couldn't be seen, but kept looking about intently. The architecture of the city was modest, most of the buildings being made of a grayish stone with white streaks in it, probably quarried from the islands themselves. Most buildings were directly against the street, making the place feel more like a hallway than a thoroughfare. Most of the buildings were inns or taverns, but that was a function of their location. So close to the docks, they were in an area that catered either to cargo or to the men that crewed the ships. Because sailors were a very rowdy bunch, most of the buildings showed some minor damage, and bits of broken glass and the occasional splinter or tankard shard could be found near the walls of the buildings. The run-down appearance of the area told them that the owners weren't all that worried about appearances anyway. There were very few horses, and the ones that were there were all pulling carts. There were some litter-carriers, hauling about this or that rich person, even a coach or two. But almost everyone was on foot, and most of them had the look of seafarers. There were a surprising number of women about, obviously citizens who looked after the businesses that catered to the very many travellers and sailors that frequented the city, but a good number of them were wearing the revealing dresses and had the general appearances of prostitutes. For such a group, there was no doubt that there were a good number of brothels in the city. That didn't count the freelancer hard currency girls. It was a Shacèan city, and his father had told him often than Shacèans didn't look down on prostitution. It was a job, just like any other, and it wasn't a bad thing for a woman to b
e a prostitute. There was a great deal of money to be made in the trade, if the woman had the right body and face. Shacèans were a rather liberal sort when it came to that kind of thing, a facet of their general happy-go-lucky and free-wheeling culture. But not every woman was wearing a dress with her breasts hanging out of it, and those women disappeared as they moved further and further from the docks. Some were wearing very well-made dresses and jewelry, markers of either well-to-do husbands or good business practices, but most were dressed in simple garb that marked them as workers or servants. Most of the rich-looking women were escorted by armed men who kept an eye on the other pedestrians, trained bodyguards not unlike Binter and Sisska.
Dolanna's directions took them to a slightly better part of the city, a neighborhood where the paint was a bit fresher and the streets not as populated by salt-smelling men. A residential area, where the citizens lived and the better or more refined inns and taverns could be found. She pointed Azakar to an inn called the Dancing Swan. "That is where we will go," she told him. "I have stayed here before."
"Looks common," Keritanima said, sniffing slightly.
"It appears common, Kaylin," Dolanna said, using Keritanima's assumed name. "But you will not find a more interesting innkeeper."
"Really," she drawled as Azakar opened the door.
The interior was clean, well maintained, and elegantly decorated. Art hung on the walls, and a young, handsome boy sat in the corner playing a curious wooden instrument with strings that he held under his chin. The sound of the instrument was haunting, and it was quite lovely. The place smelled of humans and alcohol, but the most sumptuous smells of roasting beef, pork, and goose wafted from a door in the back. A huge chaba wood bar, deeply burnished so the red hue of the wood shined, dominated the back wall of the inn, and the floor was peppered with a great many circular tables, all with padded chairs pushed underneath them. There were a surprising number of patrons, filling the tables, as well-dressed serving maids moved between them with grace and poise. A large man stood behind the bar, serving drinks, but it was not to him that Dolanna looked. She looked to a man dressed in a white silk shirt with a brown vest, a man that looked young and vibrant, with dark hair and handsome looks. He had a slightly narrow face and looked light-boned and slender, but the warm smile on his face seemed to brighten the room.
The Questing Game Page 19
